The hospital was silent.

Two groups of people waited, neither looking at each other. The first hadn’t noticed the second, the second doing their best to keep it that way. Both were waiting for the same reasons.

The first consisted of three people: a woman, a man, and a toddler. The woman’s blonde hair was pulled back in a frizzy ponytail, she’d barely been out of bed when the news had come. Working night shifts at the hospital caused her to sleep in more often that she’d like to admit. It was all she could do to have on matching clothing. The man sitting next to her was a good three inches taller than the petite woman, his dirty-blonde hair neatly cut to about an inch in length, his hazel eyes following the toddler. She seemed to be barely more than three, perhaps four, her light blonde hair hanging in slightly tangled strands just past her ears. Unaware of why they were at the hospital- something she’d visited too many times in her short life- the girl simply continued to color with the crayons she’d been given. As something occurred to her, though, she paused.

“Hiso-nii’s hurt?”

The toddler glanced up from the drawing laid out before her, a small frown pursed on her lips. Across the waiting room, the other two figures stiffened, but stayed silent.

“... he is,” her mother agreed. “You’ll have to be very nice to him, Kazue.”

“I’m drawing him a picture,” Kazue replied, her frown turning into a smile. “Hiso-nii says, he says… Kazue’s pictures always make better!”

A picture.

Her mother’s smile became strained as she looked to the girl’s father, as if asking him what to do. The man hesitated, then leaned down to draw the girl’s attention.

“I have an idea. How about instead of a picture, you think of a song? He likes it when you sing for him, too.”

Kazue’s eyes lit up and she nodded eagerly.

“A song! I know lots!”

The second group, Hikari and Miki, simply watched the scene, unable to bring themselves to talk to the family. Neither of them felt as if there was anything they could say. Eventually, Hikari sniffled, immediately searching for a tissue she’d shoved in her pocket earlier. Her eyes were red and swollen, but her cheeks were dry.

The sound caught the mother’s attention and she looked up, stiffening when she caught sight of the other two. She hesitated, then tapped her husband’s shoulder. Looking where she was, he looked at them for a moment before standing.

“Hikari-chan? Miki-chan?” he called out.

Their eyes focused on the ground, the walls, anywhere but the man sitting across the way. He pursed his lips, glancing towards the hall where Hisoka’s room lay before slowly walking over to where the two girls were sitting. Squatting down in front of them to draw their attention, he forced a small smile.

“You know he’s going to be alright, don’t you?” he questioned. “There’s no need to worry. Because of you two, he made it home.”

Hikari sniffed again.

“H-he… he… his…” she mumbled, then cut off when she couldn’t get the words to come out.

Miki simply sat stiffly beside her, hands clasped in her lap. Her eyes dug into the man, as if challenging him to continue. Slightly unsettled, he rocked back on his heels for a moment and gathered his thoughts before taking up the challenge.

“Hiso-kun knew what he was getting himself into when he decided to become a shinobi,” he informed them gently. “While the possibility of being gravely injured or maimed probably is something he thought didn’t apply to him, he knew the risks. It’s not your fault- if anything it’s the fault of the man who did this. Watch, when he wakes up he’ll tell tell you the same thing… if not in a less gentle manner.”

Hikari hesitated, ducking her head. Her hair fell around her face, blocking it from the man’s view. Her shoulders were shaking, however, so he had a slim idea of what her expression would resemble.

“You’re right…” she whispered after a minute had passed. She raised one hand to swipe any wetness away from her eyes and looked back up at him. “He’ll get mad if I sound like I’m crying.”

He looked to Miki then, who hadn’t moved an inch. Her eyes were still settled on him, the emotion in her face having changed from challenging to, if anything, rejection. He was silent for a moment, simply returning the look with his own, hesitant one.

“It isn’t your fault,” he repeated.

Her hands clenched tighter around each other as she narrowed her eyes. He almost flinched back from the anger that appeared in them, even if he knew that it was most likely not completely directed at him.

“Not my fault?” she echoed. “Not? I might as well have drawn the blood myself.”

Abruptly, she stood.

“Call me when Hiso-nii wakes up.”

Then, ignoring the protests following her, Miki turned and left.

Outside, Kakashi was leaning against the building. He didn’t say a word when she appeared, simply joined her as she swiftly escaped the building. Eventually, they stood in the center of one of the bridges crossing over the small stream that ran through the village. Miki had braced her arms on the railing, noting the fact that Kakashi wasn’t trying to comfort her like everyone else. Instead, he simply stood next to her, copying her stance.

“Kenshin died.”

Kakashi, like Miki, didn’t look at her. Instead his eyes fell to the stream flowing beneath them.

“He did,” he agreed quietly.

“Hiso-nii won’t be able to see.”

“He won’t.”

“Yukio did it to make a point to me.”

“He did.”

“He won’t just leave it here.”

“He won’t,” Kakashi agreed once again.

Miki paused, gathering her emotions that were threatening to spill over. She could feel her eyes stinging, but tears had yet to fall. If she could help it, they never would. It seemed wrong.

“You aren’t trying to tell me it’s not my fault.”

Kakashi was silent for a long moment, his finger flicking a stray spliter of the wood off of the railing. They both watched as it hit the water, neither speaking until it’d been whisked out of sight.

“No matter whether it was, or wasn’t. Whether I believe it was, or wasn’t- or what anyone believes... the guilt will still be there,” he answered slowly, then paused. His head leaned back, eyes training on the clouds now as if they held the answers. “You’ll probably have dozens of people look at you and say it wasn’t your fault, whether or not they believe differently. People will try and comfort you, although they may focus more on Hikari, she’s easier to talk to. It’s simply the nature of those who live here.”

His blunt words didn’t seem to offend her. If anything they caused her lips to twitch up slightly before settling on the even expression she’d been wearing.

“You probably won’t believe them.”

She was silent for a moment, then tilted her head towards him the tiniest bit.

“Did you?”

He stiffened slightly, then gave a small shake of his head.

“Never.”

Surprised that he had answered her, Miki studied him for a moment.

“You’re still grieving.”

He blinked, lowering his head to study her in return for a moment. His visible eye was hard, his hands wrapping around the edge of the railing and gripping so tightly that his knuckles turned white. She met his eye equally, not once wavering. After a moment he loosened his grip on the railing, surprising even himself.

“What do you know?” he asked quietly.

Miki’s eyes left his when he finally spoke, traveling back towards where the hospital lay. She could see the front yard from where they stood. As she watched, a small figure emerged from the front door.

“Your teammates died- you killed one of them. Your sensei died in the Kyuubi's attack on the village. Your father committed suicide before all of that happened.”

He stiffened.

“Where did you learn all that?” he demanded.

She glanced back at him, her face betraying nothing.

“So it’s true?”

Miki pursed her lips, leaning back from the railing. She kept hold of it with her hands, keeping herself from falling backwards.

“I wonder where,” she muttered, ignoring how he seemed slightly irritated with the response. Instead she raised her voice and continued. “Isn’t it only fair?”

“Fair?” he echoed.

“Fair,” she repeated. “You know all about me- more than most.”

He blinked.

“Not much,” Kakashi informed her.

“Enough. I don’t know much about you, either. Those are just facts,” she replied, then paused before continuing. “Although there are little things. I know you hate chidori, even if it’s a pretty attack. I know that you love perverted books, but seem to have a problem with sharing them with others, or letting me read them. I know you have a strong sense of right and wrong, even if you sometimes blur the lines for duty.

“I know you miss you friends more than you would ever admit.”

He studied her for a moment.

“I don’t know that much about you,” he replied simply.

“That’s alright. I don’t know much about me,” Miki said. “If you want, though, I’m open to learning more.”

He frowned, his expression telling her to go on.

“We could be friends. I’ve learned a lot about you from watching. Maybe it’d be less one-sided if we were friends instead of… whatever this is.”

Kakashi frowned even further, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. He turned his hands over on the railing, his mind flickering over everything that had happened since he’d found her in that cabin. His eyes settled on the one he always seemed to get stuck on, the one that he could still remember covered in blood.

“Friends…” he repeated, then flickered his eyes back in her direction. “I’m not very good at being a friend, I never have been.”

Miki’s lips twisted up slightly as she leaned forward and turned in his direction. Resting one arm on the railing, she swept the strands of hair falling out of her braid from her face with her opposing hand. Then, she offered it to him.

“Neither am I.”

Kakashi stared at it for a moment, then slowly took her hand. A faint, ghost of a smile appeared on his lips.

“There you are!” Hikari called out suddenly upon spotting them and the two jerked apart as if they’d been stung. “It’s Hisoka! He’s awake!”

_________________________________

His family went in first. By the time that Miki and Hikari came back into the hospital- Kakashi had disappeared when Miki turned to check if he was coming in- his parents were telling him they’d be back later after his other visitors had gotten a chance. As the two girls appeared outside the doorway, however, Kazue paused and stared up at them with wide eyes.

“Hiso-nii’s friends?”

Hesitantly, Hikari nodded.

Kazue frowned, gripping her mother’s hand tighter. A second later she puffed out her cheeks and gave them a small glare.

“Be nice to Hiso-nii!” she commanded. “And...he’s got to stay in bed. Kazue will be mad if you let him get out! Don’t be loud. Okay?”

Hikari blinked, then plastered on a smile to show the little girl.

“We’ll be careful, Kazue-chan, don’t worry,” she informed her.

Kazue’s eyes widened.

“You know Kazue?”

Hikari nodded.

“Hiso-kun talks about you a lot. Do you mind if we go in and see him now?”

Kazue kept her cheeks puffed out for a moment, glancing between the two of them before giving a slow nod and tugging her mom forward.

“Okay.”

Curious, Miki peeked back as the trio continued down the hall. A few steps down, Hisoka’s mom paused.

“Kazue, you’re bleeding! Did you fall down?”

“No.”

“Did you hit something?”

“No.”

The little girl shook her head and released her mom’s hand to reach down and rub her knee.

“It’s okay! Kazue isn’t bleeding bad!”

“Kazue can’t feel pain,” Hikari murmured, noticing where Miki was looking. Surprise shot through her as she turned her attention back to Hikari. “It’s not uncommon in the Asari clan. It’s stranger that she talked to us- Kazue hates strangers.”

“Oh.”

A moment later the two of them were stepping into the hospital room. Hisoka was propped up with a pillow behind his back. His skin had a rather pale tone to it, a large white bandage wrapped over his eyes and around the back of his head, tapping his hair beneath it. A blanket laid in a crumpled heap next to his legs, most likely the result of him irritatedly kicking it off.

“Hisoka?”

The boy tensed, relaxing a moment later as the voice clicked in his mind. His hands were lightly clenched and settled over his chest.

“Hikari,” he greeted, pausing for a moment. “And... Miki is probably with you, right?”

Hikari visibly winced. It was strange to hear Hisoka sound so uncertain.

“She is.”

Silence stretched between the three of them. Slowly, the two girls took their positions in the seats that had been placed next to the bed for visitors. The air was tense, an unsettling feeling.

Eventually it was Hisoka who broke it.

“I’m sorry.”

The girls simply stared at him. Another strange occurrence- Hisoka never seriously apologized. He might do it sarcastically, but never seriously unless he’d done something incredibly stupid and would come off as worse jerk than usual if he didn’t.

“Why?” Hikari wondered.

She knew the answer, but for some reason needed to hear it. He couldn’t be blaming himself, could he?

“I should have done something. Anything.”

Hikari hesitated, glancing between Miki and Hisoka. Getting the picture, Miki pulled herself to her feet.

“I’ll come back in when you’re done.”

She left and Hikari stood, approaching the bed. Hisoka visibly tensed, hearing her but completely uncertain over what she was doing.

“None of it was your fault,” she told him. “If anything, it was everyone’s, not just yours. You did your best. You did better than any of us.”

She reached a hand up to brush the few strands of hair that were curling around his cheek away so that she could lean in and lightly kiss it. The action was meant to comfort him, her mother used to do it to her when she had bad dreams. At the same time, her cheeks lit up in embarrassment.

“You aren’t allowed to be uncertain,” she continued, her voice almost a whisper. “You’re a loud jerk, Hiso-kun.”

A humorless smile formed on his lips.

“If you haven’t noticed, I have plenty of reason to be uncertain, Hikari.”

Hikari stiffened.

“Hikari?” she echoed.

“You don’t like it?”

“You’re supposed to call me Hika-chan, butthead.”

He laughed, this time with a bit of feeling despite himself.

“You hate it when I call you Hika-chan.”

She hesitated, then flicked him on the forehead.

“Just do as you’re told, baka!”

“Ow! Don’t attack the patient!” he retorted, reaching up to hold his head.

Hikari rolled her eyes, relieved that all of the tension seemed to fall away with the return of their usual attitudes.

“I just flicked you. Don’t be so dramatic.”

“The pain,” he moaned. “Oh the agony. I think I’m bleeding.”

She snickered, unable to help herself.

“Oh shut-up, Hiso-kun.”

For a short time, they simply allowed the usual, bickering flow to guide their conversation. Eventually, however, Hikari’s eyes flickered to the clock.

“I should let Miki come back in,” she muttered, pulling herself to her feet. Something within the conversation she’d sat back down in the visitor’s chair.

“Sure,” Hisoka replied, a teasing tone to his voice. “Just abandoned me. I see how it is.”

The accidentally spoken word lingered in the air between them for a moment.

See.

The sound of it was as heavy as any curse. A second later, a bitter smile appeared on Hikari’s face as she crossed the room. At the doorway, she paused, glancing over her shoulder.

“Never.”

________________________

When Miki returned to the room, so did the tense silence. Neither of them quite knew what to say, but each had a pile of things they wanted- no- needed to share.

“Hiso-nii…” she muttered eventually.

“You don’t have to call me that,” he broke in. “Not really.”

She tensed.

“I can’t?”

“No,” Hisoka reassured her, wincing at the hurt tone that had appeared in her voice. “You just don’t have to. I’m younger than you, after-all.”

She didn’t reply right away. Instead, Miki laced her fingers together in front of her.

“Hiso-nii… did he…”

“He said it was a message for you,” Hisoka muttered. “Not that it matters. Ignore it. He’s a bastard, Miki. A pure bastard. Crazy, too. Nutters. Insane. A murderer- whatever he was thinking, it holds no meaning.”

She blinked, startled by how intense his voice became towards the end of his announcement.

“Ignore it.”

“I can’t.”

The quiet, simple, honest words held more weight to them than a dozen might have. Hisoka’s lips twisted just the smallest degree.

“At least you’re honest.”

Silence fell again.

“Hey, Miki-chan?” he asked.

“...yeah?”

“Kenshin’s dead.”

She blanched- staring at him. His blunt words felt like a stake driven into her heart. It was hard to ward off the sudden sting that came to her eyes.

“I’m blind- probably permanently,” he continued. “Both of us had plans, you know. It’s not your fault we can’t follow through with them, but it got me thinking. If I’m not there to speak for you the next time you meet a stranger, what will happen? Hayate, Kakashi, Hikari, me, none of us can be around all the time. What then?”

She didn’t respond.

“This might be a bit weird, but I want you to promise me something,” Hisoka told her without waiting for an answer. “Two things, actually. You can’t tell anyone- got it?”

She nodded, then realized that the action was useless.

“Yes.”

“The first is the biggest secret. Promise me you’ll take care of Hikari.”

She’d expected as much.

“I will.”

“The second… you have to be even more like Kenshin and I.”

The words washed over her and she frowned, unable to quite understand what he was saying.

“People won’t always understand what you’re thinking- you have to tell them. Kenshin told us exactly what he expected and we still didn’t do it… how can you expect people to even remotely come close when you don’t say a word at all? Promise me. From now on, you don’t just talk to us. You talk to everyone. You protect Hikari. You can stalk Kakashi-san if you like, I don’t care about that, but make friends as well.

“This is probably a bit weird coming from me. I’m just eleven, after-all. I’m just a loud-mouth, now handicapped, jerk. I can’t force you to keep the promises. I probably won’t know if you aren’t, unless something big happens.

“What do you say?”

Miki stared at him.

It was funny, all of this started because of a fever driven whim of hers. She’d hazily thought that maybe going with the next person who came through the door would be fine as long as she didn’t have to go to Orochimaru and had set off this string of events.

What would have happened if she hadn’t gotten sick, she wondered.

“I promise.”